An Otherwise

Kat, my beautiful and newlywed Granddaughter, shares her joie de vivre with me in her weekly phone calls.

I love hearing from her and her calls often trigger memories of when once I,too, was young and in love.

And thinking back, I realize my betrothed and I should have had counseling. Not about the vows we were prepared to take, but rather on the rather mundane and vital topic of breakfast.

Until marriage, the subject never arose. We were compatible in so many ways. I just assumed he and I agreed about my version of a civilized morning meal, i.e. black coffee.

He apparently presumed I was astute enough to start the day with a hot breakfast. And, of course, we were both wrong.

And that is when a relationship with a wise therapist could have been beneficial.

I will say we both tried, and neither of us complained. But we struggled for 57 years of an otherwise uncomplicated marriage.

I managed to “make” the morning meal. But it would never have received an endorsement from Ina Garten. Or anyone else, to be candid

And I never managed the pristine appearance or ability to serve the meal in a starched garment complete with a neat coiffure. It is far better if I forget those early morning outfits when I struggled just putting bread in the toaster.

And while a therapist might have helped, the important thing I remember is that love conquered all even making breakfast.

And that indeed falls into my category of minor miracles.